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I flinch, shocked into momentary speechlessness. I swallow past a dry throat a few seconds later and recover.
“You don’t come to my grand openings.” I hear the hurt in my own voice. I didn’t mean to reveal how much that hurts, but it’s impossible to miss. “You attend every opening Nate has ever had.” I’m aware of my brothers’ sudden silence—almost as loud as Nate’s laughter was a few minutes ago. I can tell without turning my head to check, they’re both listening. “You don’t let a day pass where you’re not bragging about Benji’s math wizardry and how he keeps this company afloat behind the scenes. Hell, at dinner tonight, you said we’d have folded if it wasn’t for him.”
“Archer,” Dad warns.
“I don’t want you to stop supporting them,” I continue, on a roll now. “But would it kill you to throw a bit of praise my way? I’m here for you, Dad. I’m here, at Owen, because of you. I didn’t start a competing company and go off on my own. Maybe I should have, but I didn’t. For years I’ve tried to prove I’m worthy. It’s like you think because I’m not building exactly what you’d like me to, I’m failing.”
“I don’t think you’re failing. I know you can do better!” he snarls.
“Hey,” Nate interjects. “Let’s not do this tonight.”
“Mind your business,” I tell Nate, my eyes locked on Dad’s. My father’s gaze hasn’t wavered. He’s the picture of stubbornness, his mouth tight and his cheeks pulled. If I’m not careful, that’ll be me in a few decades. “I don’t need your praise. I want it, but I don’t need it. If you can’t find a way to be proud of your first son”—I tap my chest—“then fuck you.”
I stub out my cigar in the wide ashtray standing between us and turn and walk into the house.
Behind the wheelof my Mercedes, I reverse out of my parents’ drive, my arms straight, hands wrapped around the wheel at ten and two. Talia is sitting in the passenger seat, loose-limbed after plenty of port wine with Vivian and Cris. She’s wearing a slightly wonky, completely captivating smile as she watches out the windshield.
When I came back into the house after dropping the big F-you to Dad—a first for me, in case you were wondering—I didn’t rush into the sitting room and grab Talia’s hand to lead her from the house. I didn’t want to ruin her night. I also didn’t want to talk about how angry I’ve been with William Owen for years.
I don’t want to talk about it now.
“I had a really great time,” she tells me. “Your mom is reserved, but so sweet. And your brothers—they’re funny and interesting. And protective.” She pokes me in the arm. “You all are. Your dad’s a good man. He reminds me a lot of you.”
My arms stiffen so much I worry I might tear the steering wheel off the dashboard.
“You look like him. The same green eyes. Though you do have your mother’s nose,” she amends. “Did you know you and your father stand in exactly the same position? It’s funny. The same lean on one hip, the same stubborn fold to your arms.” She laughs lightly. “Are you sure he doesn’t approve of what you do?”
“Yes, Wildflower,” I answer, impatience evident in my voice. I blow out a breath and try to calm down. “I am positive he doesn’t approve of what I do. Like I said to you before, and like I told him tonight in so many words, I don’t need his approval.”
She’s quiet for a while. The only sound in the car is the heat blowing and the occasional swipe of the windshield wipers as it starts to rain.
“I’ve been going against what my father wants for me for years,” she tells me when I expected her to argue about my father’s approval. Instead she’s sympathizing. “You have to do what’s best for you in the end, no matter what he says. You have decided to be the king of nightlife. I have decided…” She trails off, unwilling to finish her sentence. Then she sighs, a heavy sound. I instantly regret bringing the mood in the car down to my level. She was happy a minute ago. “I hope I can make this LLC work.”
I spare her a glance as I turn right at a traffic light. “Where the hell did that come from? Of course you can make it work.”
“I’m not as good at rebelling as you are. I hear my papa’s voice in my head warning me to be careful and keep my safe and secure job. I’ve tried that. Many times. It’s not for me.” She shakes her head, frustrated, but I’m not sure if she’s frustrated with herself or her father. “I don’t exactly know what I’m doing.”
“You’re doing your thing.” I reach over and squeeze her hand, resting her fingers in mine against my thigh. “I’m doing my thing.”
“And what are we doing to each other?” Her tone is light and teasing. She’s not asking about the future—only the immediate future.
“Honey, I’ll do whatever you’d like me to do to you tonight.” I smile for her benefit, easing into flirting with her. Smiling feels a hell of a lot better than being pissed off at my dad. Focusing on now feels a lot better too. God knows we can’t guarantee each other more than that. No matter how much I want her to stick around, I have no right to clip her wings. Her father’s been demanding she behave a certain way her entire life. I can relate to that sort of pressure.
“Don’t listen to what anyone wants for you but you,” I tack on.
“Are we still talking about sex?” she asks cheekily as I park in front of my townhouses.
“Definitely not. Well, in the bedroom, you should listen to me,” I amend. “I always have your interests in mind.” I put the car into park. She leans over and kisses me, doing wonders for my decaying mood. As my lips tug and sip hers, I shove the evening’s events aside, including my father’s shocked expression and my brothers’ worried ones when I left. Instead I focus on what’s going well. Talia. In my arms. Clinging to me as I lead her up the steps to my townhouse.
I lose myself in her and try hard not to think of when I might lose her altogether.
